actually required; and partly because of it he did not go up alone but stopped at the door of Ketlar's room and called out one of the men stenographers at work in there.
When Mrs. Hoswick admitted them, Calvin found Joan Daisy seated near the window at a small breakfast-table with a coffee pot on a spirit lamp and a covered dish before her. Evidently her breakfast had been brought a few minutes earlier, since no waiter was about; but she had not even poured her coffee.
She was dressed as she had been when she had left Calvin in the room which she called her "home"; her lips were carmined similarly and upon her pale cheeks was the same amount of color; but her appearance was changed. She had become frightened.
Very evidently she was struggling to combat her fright.
"Good morning, Mr. Clarke," she said and arose.
"Good morning," replied Calvin and, referring to the stenographer, said: "You've seen Mr. Eller before, I believe."
"Yes, I've seen Mr. Eller. How do you do?" Joan Daisy spoke to the stenographer, who seated himself and immediately opened his book.
"Sit down," Calvin bid her shortly, "and go on with your breakfast."
"It don't want any breakfast."
"Didn't you order it?" he asked, nettling in the surprising way in which he had begun with her last night.
"No. Mrs. Hoswick did. I don't want it and I don't understand it, Mr. Clarke. I don't understand any of this. Who's paying my bills here?"
"The county," replied Calvin.
"Why?"
"Why?" repeated Calvin. "We brought you here; we're holding you here."
"Why? I mean, why am I at a hotel? Why do you
